Raptor Apocalypse

by Steve R. Yeager

  Windblown debris filled the parking lot, but fortunately the breeze had died down and nothing stirred. He only heard the sound of his own footsteps. All about him were old signs left behind by the raptors: bleached bones, torn and shredded clothing, moldy cardboard, dried scat, and the long grass they used for their nests. Nothing stood out as being recent. They must have moved on to find better hunting, or their population had died off here as they were dying off in other places. The storefronts had been boarded up as if the people here thought they might return one day. Except for some small holes in the plywood covering the buildings, no other entrances existed on this side. Going in through one of those gaps did not seem like such a good idea, even though he could not smell the familiar rotten meat odor. Also, no birds circled overhead. That did not necessarily mean there were no raptors. It just meant they were not here in large numbers.

  Cautiously, he made his way along the side of the industrial building he had first seen and around to the back entrance. A blue, steel-clad door set on a concrete porch seemed to hold promise. He jiggled the doorknob and was surprised to find it unlocked. But when he pulled, it did not open. Bending closer, he inspected the crack between the door and jam. A metal plate covered most of it, but he could see that the deadbolt had not been engaged. So, he pulled again. This time, the door opened slightly but caught. Something was lodged under it, preventing it from opening. He kicked at whatever it was, leaned backward, and yanked again. The door skittered open with a rasping scrape. Blue paint flaked off and floated to the ground. He kicked again at the object keeping the door from opening and realized what it was, a bone, probably a rib bone. He was unsure if it had once belonged to a human or to a raptor.

  He paused to listen.

  Nothing.

  Putting one hand on the handle of his katana, he stepped inside the building. It was dark and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. His muscles tightened in a struggle to reach equilibrium, and his brain shifted into a higher level of alertness.

  Tall rows of interlocking pallet racks made from steel beams stretched from the floor to the ceiling. A walled-off area to his left offered promise of shelter. It was framed with external metal studs and had sheetrock walls. Apparently, it had not been subject to the looters or vandals who had wrecked most of buildings he had seen.

  As he walked across the floor, his shoes made squeaking noises on the polished concreted. Those sounds echoed in the cavernous warehouse. Glancing up, he saw dust floating in the shafts of light coming through a set of grime-covered windows near the ceiling. Other than the steel-clad door he had entered, there were three roll up doors about twenty feet tall on the opposite side of the warehouse. It all appeared safe enough as a first line of defense. The small office area to his left looked as if it might offer a secondary defense. If any raptors made it inside, he would be able to hear them before they presented any danger.

  After stepping through the entranceway to the office, he climbed onto a dust-covered desk. Behind the desk was a large, unbroken window that looked out on the warehouse floor. He rubbed the glass. His hand stuttered and chirped over the chalky coating and left behind streaks. Leaning forward, he peered across the warehouse floor. The window had a good view of the surrounding area. Above him were ceiling tiles. Standing on a desk, he pushed against one of them and rose on his toes to look inside the crawlspace. Pipes, ventilation ducts, and wires were nested inside and created a tangled mess that was too tight for him to crawl through. He dropped back down onto the desk, realizing the room would become a deathtrap if any raptors made it into the building since it only had one way out.

  Height was what he needed.

  Raptors could jump about as high as they were tall, but their forearms were too weak to use for climbing. So, he left the office and returned to the stockroom area. There, he located one of the tall, metal racks that looked suitable. The steel, orange-painted crossbeams and empty wooden planks went from floor to ceiling, and there were at least five to choose from, each spaced about ten feet apart. Another was off in a section on its own. Raptors could get to the first level of that one, but not easily to the second. So, if he climbed any higher than that, he should be safe.

  He tossed his bag onto the wooden planks of the first level and pulled himself up to it. Then, he continued to climb, using the same sequence until reaching the top level, which was about thirty feet from the floor. Directly above him was a bank of skylights that provided natural lighting. All were coated in the same brown dust that covered everything else. It felt oily between his fingers and smelled of stale cardboard. He stood on tiptoes and craned his neck to see if he could peek through one of the skylights, but it was too high up and the dust blocked most of the sunlight. He was able to see the darkening sky outside, though. It was going to rain soon. Good, he thought. He liked the rain as long as he did not have to be out in it.

  Satisfied with his new perch, he sat cross-legged, opened his bag, and rummaged through it for something to eat. Having not eaten all day, he was starving. But after digging through the outer pockets, he found little more than gum and toilet paper. Tomorrow, he would have to forage for something more substantial to eat. Going more than a day without food was never a good idea. It made him weak, and the weak died.

  Digging deeper in the main compartment of his pack, he probed around with his fingers, looking for something else. At the bottom, his fingers wrapped around a familiar shape, an apple. He pulled out the precious piece of fruit and brushed it off on his shirt. Crap. This one felt mushy, not hard like the other apple he had given away earlier. Still, he bit into it and immediately spat it out. It had spoiled. Hissing through his teeth, he tossed the bad apple and watched it sail across the warehouse and hit the wall opposite him. A steely clang rang out in the silence. Tiny wet splatting sounds followed as each of the broken pieces of fruit hit the floor. Realizing he had made more noise than he had intended, he listened for any response.

  Nothing.

  It took more than a few swallows from his water bottle to wash away the rotten taste. He then went back to digging through his pack for something else, anything else, but came up empty, except for the peaches. He was not ready to use them up just yet, so he pushed the bag away, frustrated with himself for not doing a better job of finding more food along the way.

  There remained one last thing he wanted to do before going to sleep. He drew the katana from its sheath to inspect it. The blade seemed fine for now. He had planned to work on it regardless, but a sudden yawn caught him by surprise and he changed his mind. Come morning, he would also try the nearby pond. If he did not find any fish, he could scout around for something else to eat. There had to be something in one of the buildings.

  He heard a thump in the distance. It sounded like a heavy door opening and closing on its hinges. Probably just the wind coming ahead of the storm. The faint sound happened again and then continued for several minutes before abruptly stopping. He was too tired to investigate, and with the rain coming it would be too dangerous to do so now. It could wait until morning.

  Things were definitely looking up for him. If he hustled and found some food quickly, he could be on the road and reach Denver in a day or two. Though, he did not expect to find much there. As for food, he could always isolate and kill a raptor or two if need be. That would sustain him long enough to make it through the city. However, he had grown to hate the way they tasted and longed for something else to eat, anything else.

  He leaned back, locked his hands behind his head, and stared up at the steel bones of the building above. Tiny dust motes floated in the growing wind and swirled near the broken windows. He shut his eyes. He so enjoyed his time alone, the solitude, the quiet, the peace. It had been a long trip since leaving the bunker and its confining, conforming, pressing existence. Even through the trials of the road, the many deaths, and the miserable weather, he preferred to be outside and alone and free from the influences of others, but once in a while he wished he had someone with him. He wond
ered if Eve had been that someone.

  Dawn would come in a matter of hours and bring a new day. Each new day brought renewed hope that he was a step closer to putting an end to the raptors. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and let out a wavering sigh of contentment. Far off in the distance, someone screamed.

  -24-

  FOLLOWERS

  EVE SAT IN the living room of the ranch house, trembling. Noah had not hit her, but what he had just said, left her with little hope she could convince him to let her stay in Eden. What he’d said was as good as a death sentence.

  Since she was responsible for Cory leaving, she had to go after him. Noah had said it so casually, too. As if it was going to be easy for her to do everything he had told her to do. It wasn’t. The odds of survival outside the community, on her own and completely unprepared, were only slightly better than the alternative of being maimed and tied to a post outside the walls. He had allowed her one concession, however. She could take her most trusted friend, Adam, but she would be responsible for convincing him to come along.

  As she left the house, the wheels in her mind began to spin. Mathew sat on the top step of the front porch with one hand resting on his knee. He was staring out at the front gate and seemed frustrated by something. In his other hand, he held a metal spear wrapped in fraying duct tape. Most of the gray had worn off and had left behind a fine, white mesh.

  He stood as she paused alongside.

  “Have you seen Adam?” she asked.

  “Washing clothes,” he replied, derisively, “like he should be doing. Why do you want him? What about—”

  “I just need to find him, that’s all.”

  He sneered. He had tried to get into her pants once before, but she had rebuffed him. Ever since then, he’d been a real prick about it. She had thought more than once of trapping him and letting Noah discover them together, but she figured that would somehow blowup in her face, as things often did. While she’d occasionally been forced to sleep with others at Noah’s command, Matt had never been one of them. She was thankful for that.

  She located Adam behind the house. He was scrubbing clothes against a grooved washboard. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and his arms were covered with sudsy water.

  He glanced up as she approached.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey,” Adam replied, shaking water from his hands and rising to his feet.

  The sight of Adam’s pudgy cheeks and strong, broad shoulders helped her to relax. There was a reassuring quality about him. Though, when doing work like this he had always reminded her of a portly little housewife. Underneath, she knew he had the mental toughness and strength of a pit-bull. Today, what she was going to have to ask him to do was tough, and she couldn’t quite make eye contact with him to do so.

  “I have to go somewhere,” she said.

  “What?” His eyebrows rose. Then he nodded in understanding. “Why you?” he asked, returning to his work.

  “It doesn’t matter much. Noah says that I let him go, so I have to go after him. But it was really Matt and Ryan’s fault. They failed. They should be the ones to go.”

  “Why you then?”

  “Why?” she repeated. “I can’t tell you. Noah swore me to secrecy.”

  “Secrecy? Who was that guy anyway?”

  “Someone special,” she said. She still could not make eye contact with him. “But, you and I, we need to get going.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, he told me that you were to come with me,” she lied. “He said you would go. You had to go. You couldn’t say no.”

  Adam shook his head like a baby refusing food.

  “We have to. Noah said so.”

  “I don’t care what he said, especially if you are not going to tell me why he is sending you.”

  “But, I need to go. Please. I can’t do this without you.”

  “Why didn’t you go with him in the first place?” Adam asked.

  The question caught her off guard. She almost answered him with “Who?” but knew he was referring to Cory. How had he known? Was it that obvious? She would have to be more careful. No, she didn’t really want to go either. She was doing what she’d been told. Or…? Now, she wasn’t so certain.

  “He has escaped,” she said in a level tone, “and we have to go find him.”

  “He didn’t want to be here, obviously, so why bother?” Adam said.

  “I’m sure he… no, it doesn’t matter. We need to go. We need to catch up to him.”

  “Why is he so damn important? Why not just let him go? Noah’s never chased anyone down like this before. Killed them, yes. Chased, never.”

  “He says Cory might know something. Something important. He won’t say what,” she lied again. “He says we need to bring him back here and find out. And he said you have to come with me, to help me find him.”

  “Why doesn’t he send someone else? Why us? Why me? We are useless out there. Like two lambs sent to slaughter. We wouldn’t survive a day.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she said, expanding on her lie. “I think we could. I’m the only one Cory has spoken to, so Noah figures I’m the only one who can convince him to return.”

  She also knew how much Noah loathed Adam, which was why she was allowed to bring him along. Adam wasn’t even the man’s real name. Noah had thought it was funny to call him that and to keep him around to demonstrate to others what a homosexual looked like. It was degrading and disgusting for Noah to do that, but she’d kept her mouth closed about it. She felt guilty about that. Adam was her friend. Though, being friends with him had cost her dearly. If he died, she doubted anyone would miss him. If she died, it would be much the same. So, she had to go and they both had to succeed. He just had to come with her. If they didn’t succeed, then Jenny would win. And that could not happen.

  “All I know is we have to go soon before he gets too far away. Noah did say it had to be us and only us.”

  “You sure?” Adam said. He looked around as if he were checking to see whether anyone could overhear them and then lowered his voice to a whisper. “That guy seemed pretty good on his own with the raptors and all. I’ve never seen anyone handle them so effortlessly. Maybe you can go catch up to him and stay with him. It has to be better than this place. I know how Noah treats you, and you don’t deserve that.”

  Eve averted her eyes. No, she was not leaving Noah voluntarily. She loved him too much. But she did need Adam’s help.

  “Yes, maybe that’s it,” she said. “Maybe that’s enough. I want to get away. I know it seems weird, but is staying here any worse than taking a chance out there?”

  “You’re crazy, Evelyn. You really don’t know what you want. If you stay here, you will never get what you deserve. Noah will continue to do what he always does to you. How can you ignore that?”

  “I … not if we do this.”

  “Then, you go. I’m not going out there. I’ll die,” he said.

  “I can’t. I can’t go alone. Come with me. Please. You know I can’t go alone. I need you.” She paused for a moment, drew a breath. “Remember Randy? Do you remember what I did for him?”

  Randall Lang was Adam’s partner. He was always Eve’s trump card. She had saved the man’s life not once, but twice. The man was dead now, killed while out on an expedition to collect mushrooms. After that had happened, she had been the only one to console Adam. So, he owed her twice over, if not three times over.

  He bowed his head and continued to stare at the ground for almost a full minute. “Sure,” he finally whispered. “Okay. Whatever. I’ll go. Not that I have a choice it seems.”

  She moved forward and touched him on the side of his arm. “Thank you. It will be all right. I know it.” She held his gaze for a few seconds. “Pack light and meet me by the gate in ten minutes. I’ll get some supplies from the house. Hurry. We have to catch him.”

  She turned and left for the house.

  “Eve, wait!”

  She stopped, tu
rned. “What?”

  “Change your shirt first?”

  “My shirt? Why?”

  “Yeah, well, it’s red. Red is a bad color.”

  “Bad? Why?”

  “It would take too long to explain. Trust me. Just don’t wear red, okay?”

  She nodded, still confused. As far as she knew, raptors didn’t care what color clothing people wore. So what did he mean by that? She let the thought go as she entered the house, ran up to her room, changed her shirt, and quickly stuffed an extra shirt, some pants, clean underwear, and a few miscellaneous supplies into a canvas tote bag. She rushed back downstairs and into the kitchen, where she collected enough food to last them both a few days. She pushed aside Jenny, who was in there cooking. That made her feel a little better. From the galvanized container on the counter, she topped off a pair of canteens and headed for the door.

  “Good luck,” Jenny said and followed up with a mocking laugh.

  “Get ready to be number two,” Eve replied in a whisper on her way past.

  From a rack outside the back door, she seized a pair of sharpened, metal spears that could be used both as weapons and as walking sticks. Lastly, she ran around the porch and came to a halt near the front steps.

  This was crazy, she thought. How could she ever be expected to survive out there? With Adam? No chance. Maybe, just maybe, she could return to Noah and beg for his forgiveness. Maybe he would if she—

  She suddenly wondered if he actually expected her to survive. Was this his way of getting rid of her? Did Jenny put him up to this? And here she was, dragging her best friend along to die with her, the same guy nobody else wanted around. That manipulative bitch! She hated herself and hated everything that had happened to put her in this situation. Somehow, this was all Jenny’s fault. She’d find a way to get back at her.